Sleeping Cutie
by TheEpicPenguin
Summary: When the young Princess Isabella is cursed by the evil sorcerer Malefischmirtz to prick her finger on a spindle, it's up to the good Fairy Perry and Prince Phineas to save the day! (Don't worry; Ferb's in there, too.) Cross-over between Phineas & Ferb and Sleeping Beauty. No slash. I do not own any of the characters, though I wish my ideas were that good!
1. Who Doesn't Love A Party?

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Hi, everyone!_**

**_First of all, if you're one of my followers, I want to thank you for sticking with me. I know, I never post anything a) because I'm lame and don't write nearly as much as I should, and b) because I'm just so darn busy all the time! But here's a little something new-new and_**** very ****_different. It's written mostly for my own enjoyment, but I'm posting it in case anyone else might need some lighthearted, what I like to call "fluff" writing in their life right now. I happen to adore both fairy tales and Phineas & Ferb, so, without further ado, I present the first chapter of..._**

_Sleeping Cutie_

_A Phineas & Ferb and Fairy Tale Crossover _

_"Once Upon a Time," _a narrator's deep voice began,_ "in the faraway kingdom of Danland, there lived a lonely king and queen. Day after day, King Monogram and Queen Carl sat on their thrones and were very sad, because—"_

"Wait," Carl said suddenly, his nasally voice issuing from beneath his tiara. "That's all we're doing? _Sitting _here? Aren't we supposed to be ruling the kingdom, or something?"

"Carl, be quiet!" Monogram hissed, snapping up. "We're supposed to be looking sad!"

"Why do_ I_ have to be the queen?" Carl moaned.

"Because we needed someone to fill the role. Now _shh!" _said Monogram.

"But this dress is so _itchy! _Who invented green velvet, anyway?"

"_SHH!" _the king commanded, before he once again assumed his miserable expression. The narrator cleared his throat and continued.

_"—they were sad, because they had no children. Fortunately, not long after that, their wish was granted, and a baby girl was born."_

A servant suddenly entered through a side door, bearing a swaddled pink bundle. King Monogram gasped with delight and eagerly held out his arms.

"Wait," said Queen Carl. "It's _that _easy? Why didn't we get one earlier, then?"

"Oh, shut up, Carl!" said Monogram jubilantly, before he held up the bundle before the court. "My people, I give you: the Princess Isabella!"

The hall echoed with joyful cheers. Flags flapped. Trumpets resounded. Caps were thrown into the air in celebration. As the narrator continued, suddenly balloons were inflated, servants were running to and fro with streamers, and the doors to the throne room were thrown wide as a stream of noble guests entered, bearing gifts.

_"Not long after that—"_

"And if by _not long, _you mean five seconds," Queen Carl muttered.

_"—not long after that, the King and Queen decided to throw a party in honor of their new daughter. Among their invited guests were King Lawrence and Queen Linda of the neighboring kingdom of Flynn-Fletcher, along with their young son, Prince Phineas."_

"Welcome to Danland," King Monogram exclaimed, giving the baby to Queen Carl. Rising from his throne, he seized the family in a great big bear hug.

"Oh!" Lawrence exclaimed.

"Oh, my," Linda said, laughing. "You certainly squeeze…tightly!"

"Oh!" The king let go and stepped back. "Oh, dear. Ahem. Excuse me; I apologize."

"Oh, that's quite alright," said King Lawrence good-naturedly. "It's only natural to be excited about such a wonderful occurrence."

"Oh, yes," agreed Queen Linda. "We just wanted to congratulate you, King Monogram."

"Why, thank you," he beamed.

"Um, hello?" said Carl, placing his hands on his hips. "What about me?"

"Oh, yes; and you, too, Queen Carl," Lawrence amended.

"And this strapping young lad must be Phineas, am I right?" King Monogram said, waving at the toddler in Linda's arms.

"Phineas, go give Princess Isabella your present," Linda cooed, setting the little boy down. Young Phineas toddled up to the cradle, where Queen Carl lifted him up so he could see the princess inside. Isabella gurgled with delight as she looked at the shiny golden locket in Phineas' hand.

"Oh, what a lovely present," said Carl.

"Why, thank you," said Lawrence. "We helped him pick it out, but he made the modifications himself."

As the little prince dropped the locket into the cradle, it popped open, projecting a holographic image of rainbows and unicorns and flowers and teddy bears and butterflies and…(well, you get the idea.) In addition to the flashing images, the locket also played a lovely, tinkling lullaby.

"Oh!" King Monogram said, while Queen Carl hurriedly put the little prince back down. "Well, that's—most, um, extraordinary. Thank you."

"_It was just then that the monarchs all simultaneously got an idea,"_ said the narrator's voice.

Suddenly, Monogram, Lawrence, and Linda all turned to each other. "I've got an idea!" they said at the exact same time.

"When Phineas and Isabella are older—" said Lawrence,

"—I think it would be wonderful—" said Linda,

"—if they got married!—" exclaimed Monogram,

"—allowing our two kingdoms—"

"—to unite, becoming one—"

"—in peace and prosperity!" finished the king. "Splendid! Then let it be known that on this day, my only daughter, the Princess Isabella, shall be betrothed to Prince Phineas of Flynn!"

The news was greeted with rousing cheers from the guests.

"What, the princess doesn't get any say in this?" said Carl incredulously.

"It's tradition, Carl!" said the king. "Be quiet!"

"Sorry, sir."

Suddenly, a messenger rushed up.

"Your majesty, the fairies have arrived!"

"Excellent!" said the king, turning to the center of the room. In a shower of sparkles, three strange beings suddenly appeared. One was short, with cinnamon skin and close-cropped, curly black hair, dressed in a blue tunic and wings. Another was tall, stocky, and block-toothed, with a brown crew cut and a red tunic and wings. The third wasn't even human; he was a blue platypus, yet he walked on two legs and gave off an unmistakable aura of intelligence. He was dressed in a dapper green tunic, with wings protruding from his back. This fairy, whose name was Perry, approached the King and bowed, gesturing for the other two to follow.

"Good fairies, we are most pleased to have you here at the christening of the Princess Isabella," the king said.

"Why does she even need to be christened?" Carl interjected. "You already announced her name in front of the whole court!"

"It's the principle of the thing!" said the king. "Besides, who doesn't like a party?"

"Well, we're really happy to be here, sire," said the red boy.

"I always thought that fairies were female," said the blue boy, looking down at his outfit.

"Don't be sexist, Baljeet!" said Red. "Guys can be fairies, too!"

"Whatever you say, Buford," said Baljeet with a sigh.

"Now, c'mon. We're supposed to give her our gifts," said Buford, pointing to the cradle. The three approached. Perry zipped ahead of the boys to perch on a little stool next to the bassinet. As he looked down at the burbling baby, the platypus' normally stern face softened into a smile.

"You go first," said Buford, pushing Baljeet forward.

"M-me?" said Baljeet. "Wh-what do I do?"

"Just give her your gift! It's not that complicated."

"Oh. Okay. Princess Isabella, I present you with my gift!" said Baljeet, putting a hand inside his cloak and withdrawing a duckling-patterned baby blanket.

There was a pause.

"…That's it?" said Buford.

"What's it?" said Baljeet, looking up at him.

"Just the blanket? It's not, I don't know—enchanted in some way? Does it _do_ anything?"

"Yes; it keeps you warm on cold nights. Castle rooms can be very drafty."

"You dummy!" exclaimed Buford. "We're _fairies!_ We're supposed to give the princess awesome gifts, like beauty, or a nice voice, or something like that!"

"What's the point?" said Baljeet. "She's a fairy tale princess; she'd be beautiful anyway!"

"It doesn't matter," Buford proclaimed. "It's our duty! You gotta do something more than just a _blanket!_—"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the coos of baby Isabella, who reached out for the blanket, opening and closing her tiny fists. Baljeet dropped the blanket into the cradle, and within seconds, Isabella had it snuggled against her cheek.

"Aww," said Carl.

"Well, it looks like she likes it!" said Baljeet triumphantly.

"Meh," said Buford. "Step aside, buddy, and let the real master show you how it's done." Buford stepped dramatically forward, twirling his wand with a flourish. "I give Princess Isabella the gift of guts! She'll be so spunky, nothin' can stand in her way. Ever. Ever, ever!"

He stepped back, and turned to Baljeet. "There. See?"

"Oh," said Baljeet. "Well, I guess I can do a little more—erm—" He snapped his fingers. "Oh! I've got it!—I give Princess Isabella the gift of _intelligence! _She'll be really, really smart. She'll have the best SAT scores in the whole kingdom!" He twirled his own wand and turned to Buford. "How's that?"

Buford rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever."

"Yay!" said Baljeet. He turned to the platypus. "Okay. It's your turn, Per—"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a disturbance in the crowd. A raspy voice issued through the hall:

"Urgh—excuse me; out of my way; pardon me; sorry; coming through—"

"What's going on?" asked King Monogram, but his question was answered as a tall figure finally squeezed its way through two robust courtiers at the front. The fairy Perry's eyes widened. The intruder had two black horns protruding from his head, and carried a twisted wooden staff with an eerie purple crystal at the top. He might have looked menacing, except for the fact that he tripped over his long, black-and-purple robes as he approached the king, falling flat on the floor.

_"Oof!..." _The figure sighed. "Not quite the dramatic entrance I was hoping for."

"The evil sorcerer, Malefischmirtz!" King Monogram exclaimed. Carl scooped Isabella up into his arms. Carefully, Fairy Perry slid off of his stool and slunk behind the cradle, peering out at from behind. The good fairies had had many a run-in with Malefischmirtz before, and if there was one thing Perry could be certain of, it was that the sorcerer was up to no good.

"Yes, that's me!" Malefischmirtz proclaimed, picking himself up off the floor and dusting off his robes.

"How did you get in?" asked Baljeet.

"Well…" Malefischmirtz said, confused. "The front door was open. I just—well, I just walked in."

"You're a sorcerer. Aren't you supposed to, like, appear in a big puff of colorful smoke?" asked Buford. Malefischmirtz scratched his head.

"Oh. Well, I guess you have a point. I really oughta try that sometime. Thanks for the idea!" He turned to the king and queen. "I'm so sorry I'm late. My invitation got lost in the mail, so I wasn't sure exactly what time the party started. I hope I didn't miss the cake and ice cream!"

"Don't hurt my baby!" Queen Carl exclaimed, clutching baby Isabella to him.

"What?" said Malefischmirtz. "Why would I do that?"

"Because there's no more ice cream," said Carl.

"What!?" exclaimed Malefischmirtz, looking around at all the chocolate moustaches in the crowd. "You mean, you all had the ice cream without me!? Wait a minute—!" He turned to the king and queen, pointing an accusing finger. "I'll bet my invitation didn't really get lost in the mail. I bet you just didn't invite me! Am I right!?"

"Well, we generally prefer not to have 'evil' guests at our parties," said Monogram.

"This is so unfair!" said Malefischmirtz. "I _never _get invited to parties, just because I'm _evil._" He pointed to Baljeet and Buford._ "_Oh, sure, you invite all the _good_ fairies, but the evil ones are always left out! I'm sick of being left out!"

"Hold on—there might be some ice cream left in way in the back of the freezer," said Carl. "I could go check!"

"No, no, it's too late," said Malefischmirtz with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm already embittered! I'll make you regret the day you decided not to invite me!" He turned menacingly to Buford and Baljeet. "I suppose you good fairies gave her lots of nice gifts, didn't you?—"

"Yes," Baljeet nodded. "I gave her intelligence and a blanket with ducklings on it, and Buford—"

"Shut up, dummy!" hissed Buford. "It's a rhetorical question!"

"Oh."

"—because I _also_ have a gift for the little princess!" Malefischmirtz sneered. He turned to the court. "Let it be known that one day, the princess Isabella will prick her finger on a spindle and _die!_—"

With an evil laugh, he aimed his staff at the cradle; a black light shot out, illuminating it with an eerie glow.

"No!" exclaimed King Monogram.

"NOOOO!" yelled Queen Carl, throwing himself backwards in a dramatic swoon.

_THUD!_

"…_ow._"

"Carl, why did you do that!?" asked the king.

"Sorry, sir; they said that this part was supposed to be dramatic."

"You big bully!" exclaimed Buford, pointing accusingly at Malefischmirtz. "What'd Isabella ever do to you!?"

"It's not what _she _did, it's what _they _did," protested Malefischmirtz, pointing at the king and queen.

"Still, just because you didn't get invited to a party doesn't mean you have to kill someone!" Baljeet said.

"Hmm…" Malefischmirtz rubbed the back of his neck in thought. "Well, guess it _is _a little extreme...but there's nothing you can do about it!" he laughed. "Fairy law says only one gift per fairy per christening, and you've already given the princess your gifts! There's no one who can save her now!—"

_That's my cue,_ thoughtPerry.

Without further ado, the platypus leaped out from behind the cradle and ninja-rolled to a stop, right in front of the sorcerer. Assuming a karate-stance, he swapped out his pointed fairy-hat for a brown fedora.

"Perry the Fairy-pus!" exclaimed Malefischmirtz.

"Ha! You're wrong, Shmirtz-guy!" said Buford. "Only Baljeet and I gave the princess our gifts. Perry's still got his left."

"What!?" sputtered Malefischmirtz. "Well, but, but, even _you _can't reverse my gift," he said, pointing at Perry. "Right?..."

Perry stared at him, his mind racing. As much as he hated to admit it, the sorcerer was right. Ever since the Second Fairy War, fairy law had prohibited overturning another fairy's gift. He growled in frustration. What could he do?—

"Ha ha! See!? I told you!" Malefischmirtz sneered. "Even the fairy Perry can't save her. I win!—"

Just then, Perry held up one finger in the universal sign for _"Wait just a cotton'-pickin' minute!"_

"—oh," said Malefischmirtz, as Perry began to mime his gift.

"So, what you're saying is…" The sorcerer squinted, struggling to interpret Perry's charades. The platypus pointed at the cradle, then shook his head, then drew one finger across his neck in a throat-cutting motion. "You're saying—she won't die!?..."

Perry shook his head.

"Okay, so, she won't die, but…"

Perry pointed again to the cradle, then placed both hands beneath his head like a pillow and pretended to snore.

"…but she'll just be asleep!?" said Malefischmirtz incredulously.

Perry nodded again, before he puckered up his lips in a kiss, then opened his eyes, stretched and yawned.

"And then one day, she'll be awakened by the kiss of a handsome prince!?"

Perry directed his wand at the cradle, and suddenly the little princess was illuminated by a beam of golden light.

"NO!" Malefischmirtz raged. "Curse you, Perry the Fairy-pus!" He pointed at the fairy. "This isn't over. You'll see!... " Without further ado, the sorcerer turned and strode out the door. "Now, I'm going to go get some ice cream. I think the grocery store is open late on Saturdays."

Perry folded his arms, glaring holes in his enemy's back.

"What are we going to do!?" asked King Monogram urgently. "We have to protect the princess!"

"Eh, I'm not sure you can do much," Buford shrugged.

"He's right," Baljeet agreed. "Malefischmirtz is very powerful. He'll find some way to make the curse come true."

"Is there nothing we can do?" Monogram asked.

"Well…" said Buford.

"I have an idea!" said Baljeet, before he put his hand down. "But, it's probably not very good. Never mind."

"No, no, let's hear it," said the king.

"Well," said Baljeet hesitantly. "What if we were to hide her? Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes. If we hid the princess, maybe Malefischmirtz would forget all about the curse."

"…Y'know, that's actually not bad," said Buford thoughtfully. "I'm sure, given time, he'd forget all about cursing someone with their death. What do you think, Fairy Perry?"

Perry shrugged. _We could try it, I suppose._

"But how could we hide her?" the king asked.

"We'll do it!" Buford proclaimed.

"_We _will!?" said Baljeet, surprised.

"Yeah. No way would Malefischmirtz expect the princess to be hiding with the three good fairies who saved her life!"

"I guess you have a point," said Baljeet. "But what do you know about parenting?"

Buford waved him off. "Doesn't matter. I'm a fast learner! Besides, I've got you guys to help me." He glared at Baljeet. "_Right?..._"

"Oh! Right!" Baljeet gulped.

"But where will you take her?" the king asked.

"…Oh. Yeah. That's a good point, I guess," said Buford, after a second's pause. Perry suddenly snapped his fingers. "What is it, fairy Perry? Do you have an idea?"

Perry nodded and promptly pulled out a map. He unscrolled it, pointing to a particular spot.

"Here? In the abandoned woodcutter's cottage?" said Buford. Perry gave him a thumbs-up.

"Impossible!" proclaimed King Monogram. "The Princess Isabella, live in a cottage like a commoner!?"

"Well, it _would _help to throw Malefischmirtz off the trail," Baljeet pointed out.

"—Oh. You have a point," admitted Monogram.

"I guess that's settled, then," said Buford. Perry gave another thumbs-up.

"But how long will she be away?" protested the king. His eyes suddenly glimmered with tears. "We'll miss her!"

"Just long enough for Malefischmirtz to forget about the curse," said Baljeet reassuringly.

"Ten years oughta do it," said Buford.

Baljeet continued. "Then, we can bring her back to the castle when it's time for her to meet her betrothed."

King Monogram rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "…Very well," he said. Queen Carl reached into the bassinet, and Perry carefully took the pink bundle in his arms, peering down at the infant princess inside. His jaw was set in a determined line. _He would protect her. He had to._

"C'mon, guys. Let's go," said Buford. The king and queen waved sadly as the three good fairies and the princess disappeared in a shower of gold sparkles.

"Goodbye, Isabella," sniffed Carl.

**Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 will come eventually. :)**


	2. Cone-fiscated

_"The following ten years were another sad and lonely time for the kingdom of Danland," _said the narrator,_ "but at least they had the comfort of knowing that the Princess Isabella was safe. The good fairies disguised themselves as three social service workers, and they brought her to the abandoned woodcutter's cottage—which didn't turn out to be quite as habitable as they'd originally thought, but that's what magic is for! They had it fixed up in no time, and in the process, Buford discovered a hidden passion for interior design. And so it was that, deep in the forest, the fairies raised the princess as their own."_

* * *

As soon as her eyes fluttered open, ten-year-old Isabella was accosted by the feeling that there was something important she was supposed to remember. Today was a very big day, but she couldn't remember exactly why.

_Oh, well,_ she thought. Maybe her neurons just needed a little time to wake up.

With a yawn and a stretch, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and stumbled to her dressing table. As usual, the reflection that stared back at her from the mirror looked like a lion whose mane hadn't seen a hairbrush in about two decades. As she tried to tackle the tangles, she also tried her utmost to remember. Today was a very big day, but _why?..._

Then, as she clipped in her pink hair bow, the lightbulb came.

* * *

"Today's a big day!" announced Buford, approaching the table where Baljeet and Perry were enjoying bowls of Berry-O's.

"Oh, yes!" mumbled Baljeet. He swallowed his mouthful. "Yes, a very big day indeed!"

"The biggest!" Buford spread his arms wide.

Baljeet nodded enthusiastically "Huge! Enormous!"

There was a pause.

"…So, what's going on today?" asked Buford, putting his arms down.

"I was hoping you knew," said Baljeet.

"You don't remember?"

"No."

"Well, neither do I." Buford folded his arms. "Oh, great."

Perry rolled his eyes, and then left the table to retrieve the calendar from the wall, where the day was circled in bright red pen with the words "Isabella's Birthday" scrawled above it. He thrust it at the boys, pointing.

"Oh! It's Isabella's birthday!" exclaimed Baljeet.

"How could we forget that?" said Buford.

"Yeah, it's not like we had the day circled in red pen and labeled "Isabella's Birthday," said Baljeet.

"So, what do we do?" asked Buford.

Just then, Isabella skipped down the stairs. "Morning, guys! Whatchya doin'?"

"Um, well…" Buford snuck a glance at Baljeet, who shrugged.

"I have nothing," he whispered.

"Well, we definitely _weren't _just looking at the calendar to try and remember why today is such an important day," said Buford. Perry facepalmed, but Isabella didn't appear to be listening. She had poured herself some Berry-O's and was scarfing them down as fast as she could.

"So, guess what, guys? Today's a really big day—!"

"Erm—!" The fairies looked frantically at one another.

"—today's the day I finally get my Picnicking badge!" Isabella stood up, pointing to the empty spot on her scout sash.

"…Huh?" said Buford.

"Picnicking badge?" said Baljeet.

"Right! Today is the Forest Scouts' Picnic." Isabella pushed her empty bowl away and stood up. "Sorry, guys; gotta run!" she said. "The animals are expecting me."

The fairies looked at one another in surprise. Buford and Baljeet looked at one another. Then the two of them looked at Perry. The platypus shrugged.

"Well, okay," said Buford. "Just be back in time for lunch!"

"Okay!" said Isabella as she grabbed her backpack.

"And don't talk to strangers!" added Baljeet.

"Okay," said Isabella. She waved and dashed out the door. "Bye now!"

The three waved back. "Bye!"

The slamming of the door was followed by an awkward pause.

"…Well, whaddaya know?" said Buford. "I guess Isabella didn't remember her birthday, either."

"How do you forget your own birthday?" asked Baljeet.

"Eh. Search me," said Buford.

Perry, meanwhile, was scribbling frantically on a napkin. Capping the marker, he raced over to the boys and held it up in front of them. It bore a picture of Isabella standing next to an enormous cake. Himself, Buford, and Baljeet were popping out of the top of the cake in a shower of confetti, with party hats and noisemakers and presents.

"Yeah, yeah, that's a nice drawing, Perry, but we've gotta figure out what to do for Isabella's birthday," said Buford. The platypus rolled his eyes.

"Wait, I know!" said Baljeet suddenly. "What if we throw Isabella a birthday party?"

"Hey, yeah! That's a great idea!" said Buford. "We can get it ready while Isabella is out at her scout meeting."

"It will be a surprise!" said Baljeet.

"Good! Now, start puttin' up decorations!" said Buford, pushing Baljeet away. "_I'll _be in charge of making the best, most giant birthday cake ever! Perry, you can—"

He suddenly broke off, looking around. "Where's Perry?"

* * *

True to the stereotype, Malefischmirtz's castle was the crumbling, bat-infested, dark-and-dank, gloom-and-doom kind sorcerers usually inhabit—but nonetheless, it wasn't too gloomy for a little musical ditty.

_"Malefischmirtz's crumbling, bat-infested, dark-and-dank, gloom-and-doom caa-aaastle!..."_

"Hey, the rent was cheapest, okay!?" the sorcerer protested.

_BAM! _With a strength not normally associated with fairies or platypuses, Perry suddenly kicked in the door.

The sorcerer whirled around. "Ah, Perry the fairy-pus! So glad you could make it—wait, what's that?" he asked, looking at the brightly wrapped package under Perry's arm. "Is that for _me?_ You got me a present? How thoughtful; you know, you're the best nemesis an evil sorcerer could ask—"

Perry looked down at the present, then hurriedly whipped it behind his back, shaking his head.

"—for. Oh. So, it's not for me?" asked Malefischmirtz. Perry shook his head. The sorcerer rubbed the back of his neck. "…Well. This is awkward."

Perry rolled his eyes. After a painfully long pause, the sorcerer asked,

"…Then who _is _it for?"

A third time, Perry shook his head.

"Don't worry; you can trust me; I won't tell anyone!" the sorcerer said. "Come on; now you've got me all curious!"

Instead of replying, Perry pointed to the ominous-looking iron cauldron behind him, which was full of a bubbling white substance.

"What, that?" said the sorcerer. "Oh, that's just a triple batch of my homemade vanilla bean gelato. Made with real cream! If you're looking for my evil plan, then you'll have to look over—oh, wait; I forgot."

Malefischmirtz aimed his staff at the platypus with an evil laugh; a purple beam erupted from its tip. Within seconds, Perry found himself encased in a magical crystal.

"Now, as I was saying," the sorcerer smirked, "If you're looking for my evil plan, then you have to look over _here._"

He walked over to the window of the tower, where there sat a purple crystal similar to the one in which Perry was imprisoned, except that this crystal was pulsing with an eerie light.

"Do you like it?" Malefischmirtz snickered. "You see, fairy Perry, I _was _just going to make one batch of gelato, but it turned out that I read the recipe wrong. Why don't those cookbooks speak English?—" He sighed. "Anyway, I ended up making a triple recipe, but I only have one box of ice-cream-cones! You can't eat ice cream without a cone; it's just not right; right?—"

Perry blinked.

"My feelings exactly!" the sorcerer exclaimed. "I had this extra purple crystal lying around, so I decided to enchant it with my special cone-attraction-spell. It will bring all of the ice cream cones in the kingdom right here to me, and then I'll have _more _than enough for all my gelato!" He threw back his head, laughing evilly. Perry gritted his teeth, growling. _You won't get away with this!_

"The time has come!" said Malefischmirtz, tapping the crystal with his staff. It began to glow, brighter and brighter. Perry winced, feeling around in his pocket for a pair of sunglasses. "Every single ice-cream-cone in the kingdom shall be _mine!_—oh, wow, that's really bright. Ouch, my eyes!" said the sorcerer, fumbling around in front of him. "Where's the dimmer switch on this thing!?..."

* * *

"How's it looking, Ferb?" called Prince Phineas. In response to his half-brother's shouts, Prince Ferb poked his head out of the rocket, looking confused. "I said, _how's it going up there?_"

Ferb pointed to his brother, gesturing to his face. _The welding mask._

"Oh, right!" said Phineas, suddenly realizing that he must sound like Darth Vader. He quickly reached up and flipped the mask up, revealing his face. "Sorry about that. How's it going up there?" Ferb gave him the thumbs-up.

"Great!" said Phineas. "The tailfin's attached. If you've got the radio system back in order, then all we need to do is fill the fuel tank, and we should be good to go!"

"_What _the _heck _are you guys doing?" a sharp voice suddenly cut in.

"Oh, hi, Candace," said Phineas, waving at his older sister as she stomped across the courtyard towards them, lifting her long skirts out of the mud.

"Eww! Hadn't they ever heard of sod in the 1400's?" said Candace. "Aaaargh! Whatever. Phineas and Ferb,—"

She suddenly stopped, looking up at the enormous rocket. "What is _that?"_

"It's a rocket," explained Phineas. With a sudden _fwoomp!,_ an inflatable slide popped out from the rocket's doorway, allowing Ferb to slide to the ground beside his brother. "Ferb and I are gonna launch ourselves into orbit, so that we can see whether the earth is really flat or not. Wanna come along?"

"No!" said Candace firmly.

"Are you sure? The passenger cabin has a high-def. TV."

"Those haven't even been invented yet!" exclaimed Candace. "Never mind! Aren't you two supposed to be doing prince stuff, like, I don't know—practicing your archery, or whatever?"

"Oh, yeah; we did that earlier this morning," said Phineas, gesturing across the courtyard to a row of targets. Each had multiple arrows sticking out of the bull's-eye at its center. "You should've seen Ferb. He sliced an apple in two at 30 yards!"

"When you take the time to calculate the physics, it's really quite simple," said Ferb.

"Then we had some free time before lunch, so we just thought we'd beat Galileo to the punch."

"What!? Aaaargh!" said Candace, clutching her forehead. "When Mom sees this, you guys are gonna be _soooo _busted!" Candace turned on her heel and stalked back towards the castle. "Mom! _MOM!—"_

"Well, Ferb, I guess it's just you and me," said Phineas. "Now, who's ready for a space flight?"

Suddenly, a beam of purple light shot out of the sky, engulfing the nose cone of their rocket.

"What's going on!?" exclaimed Phineas. The rocket shuddered, rattled, and then, with a groaning of metal, the whole thing lifted high into the air.

"Wow. You really bolted the top on tight, didn't you?" said Phineas. Ferb gave him a thumbs-up.

Throughout the kingdom, it was the same story. All of a sudden, everyone's cone-shaped objects were suddenly yanked from their hands by beams of purple light, soaring up and away through the skies, all headed in the same direction: Mount Doof.

* * *

"Ah, here they come, Perry the fairy-pus!" laughed Malefischmirtz, rubbing his hands together as the cone shaped objects piled up before him. He picked up a traffic cone. "Though, come to think of it, I don't remember ice-cream-cones being such a violent shade of orange."

While the sorcerer was having his moment of triumph, inside the crystal, Perry pulled out his wand. Its tip began to crackle with magical energy; wielding it like a blowtorch, he began to carve his way out of the prism.

"By the way, do you like my sunglasses?" said the sorcerer. "I know, they're cool, right? They're the coolest shades in the whole—"

As he turned around, he barely had time to register the winged blue blur heading flying towards him before he was knocked right off his feet, slamming to the floor.

"OOF!" The sorcerer looked up at the platypus pinning him to the ground. Perry looked back sternly over the gold rims of his aviators. "What!?" exclaimed Malefischmirtz. "How are your shades cooler than mine? More importantly, how did you escape my—oh," said the sorcerer as he looked over at the neat little hole the fairy had made.

Perry said nothing, but promptly sent a spell in the direction of the offending crystal, which exploded. Purple shards flew in every direction; one large chunk struck the cauldron of gelato, knocking it over.

"NO!..." cried Malefishmirtz, as the purple beams drawing the cone-shaped objects to the tower vanished, sending the items plummeting back to earth. "My gelato!..."

* * *

"You know, Ferb," said Phineas as they watched the purple beam pull their rocket away into the sky by its nose cone, "Somehow, this isn't what I imagined beating Galileo would be like." Ferb shrugged.

_"—Mom! Mom! Mom!" _came Candace's sudden shrieks, as she dragged Queen Linda out the door into the courtyard. _"C'mon!"_

"Whoa; slow down, there, Candace," said the queen. "It's not very princess-like to pull on your mother. Eww, this courtyard is so muddy!" Linda hurriedly lifted her skirts out of the muck. "You know, we really should put down some sod."

"Yeah, yeah; whatever; just look at _this!—_" said Candace, with a grand sweeping gesture towards the airborne rocket. However, while Queen Linda was distracted by the mud, the purple beam suddenly vanished, and the rocket plunged out of sight beyond the castle wall.

"Oh, wow!" said Linda, looking up. "Just look at all those bull's-eyes! You boys have really been practicing, haven't you?"

"Yes! Yes, we have," said Phineas as he and Ferb walked up to them.

"What!?" sputtered Candace, looking frantically around. "It—but—no, no! You don't understand! They built a rocket! A _rocket! _It was right here; I swear!"

"A rocket? Candace, those haven't even been invented yet," said the queen. "Now, aren't you supposed to be doing princess stuff, like working on your embroidery?"

"AAAAARGH!" screamed Candace, throwing her fists in the air. "This is _so _not fair. I _know_ it was here!"

"Candace, it's not very princess-like to scream," said Linda, before she grabbed her daughter's wrist and pulled her back towards the castle.

"I thought you said it wasn't very princess-like to pull on people, either!" Candace protested, trying to break free from her mother's grip.

"I'm the queen. I can get away with anything," replied Linda. She waved to Phineas and Ferb. "Good job on your archery, boys!"

"Thanks, Mom!" called Phineas, before he turned to his brother. "Well, it looks like the rocket fell somewhere over the Fair Forest. Ferb," he said, "I know what we're gonna do today!"

* * *

"No! My gelato!" Malefishmirtz moaned. "Curse you, Perry the—"

The sorcerer suddenly broke off, and sighed. "You know, not much has changed in the last ten years, has it? It's always the same routine; I make up evil schemes, and you defeat me, and then—hey, aren't you listening?—"

Perry, meanwhile, had pulled off his sunglasses and was striding out the door, his package under his arm. No use sticking around once his nemesis was vanquished. A platypus had things to do, birthday parties to go to, and presents to deliver.

"Where are you going?" Malefishmirtz exclaimed. "You can't leave now, I'm in the middle of a dramatic, philosophical speech! Come back here! Aaaaargh!" The sorcerer shook his fist at the platypus' retreating back. "Curse you, Perry the Fairy-pus! I will finish my speech eventually; you'll—!"

The door slammed. Malefischmirtz picked himself up off the ground.

"—see. Hmph!" he harrumphed. "Perry the fairy-pus thinks he's won, but I _will_ find out who that present is for!" The sorcerer rubbed his hands together. "And I know just how to do it, too: using my _Spy-inator!_" he laughed. "I think it's still in the closet somewhere."

* * *

"Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the two-hundred-and-sixty-fifth Forest Scouts Meeting," said Isabella, looking at the eager faces of the assembled animals. "Are you all excited to get your picnicking badges?"

There came a rousing cheer.

"I know, me too!" Isabella said excitedly. "Let's just go over the checklist one last time, shall we? Okay. Sandwiches?—"

A deer pushed forward a plate piled high with peanut butter and ham on rye.

"Perfect! Chips?"

A squirrel held up two colorful, vacuum-sealed bags.

"Honey-pickle and barbecued chocolate. Good choice of flavors!" Isabella nodded approvingly. "Fruit salad?"

A chorus of twittering birds suddenly swooped in, each one carrying a berry in its beak, which they dropped one after another into a large bowl.

"Check! Carrot sticks?"

The bunnies hopped forward, carrying armloads of fresh-from-the-garden carrots. Taking them in their paws, they quickly sheared them down into bite-size sticks with their teeth.

"Check!—And, last but not least," said Isabella, "Lemonade!"

All of a sudden, a large pitcher was moving across the ground towards them, as though by itself. Looking closely, however, Isabella saw that the pitcher was actually being carried by an army of friendly ants.

_"Left! Left! Left, right, left!"_ came their tiny marching cry. _"Left! Left! Left, right, left!—HALT!"_

"Great!" said Isabella. "I think we're all set. Wow, this is a lot of food," she remarked. "How in the world are we going to eat it all?"

Isabella sat down on the checkered blanket with a sigh, her head in her hands. "If only we had more people to invite."

Suddenly, a loud _THUD _echoed through the forest. The ground trembled beneath their tower of sandwiches wobbled threateningly. The lemonade sloshed.

"What was that!?" exclaimed Isabella, jumping up. She turned to the scouts. "Hmm. Anyone interested in getting their mysterious-noise-investigation patch?"

**AN: Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome. I hope you have a lovely day!**


	3. Once Upon A Picnic

Deep in the Fair Forest, the tranquility of the afternoon was suddenly interrupted by a mighty figure galloping through the trees.

"Giddyup, Gretchen!" came a sudden cry. An onlooker would barely have had time to register the sight of the majestic mare before she streaked past: eleven feet high, made of shiny titanium-alloy, she was the pinnacle of robotic engineering. Her rider was no less impressive: sitting straight and true in the saddle, with a confident grip on the reigns and an adventurous glint in his eye.

"We should be getting close," said Prince Phineas, looking down at their rocket's tracking device. Sure enough, it wasn't long before they broke through the trees to find that morning's missing project, lying in a crater in a clearing.

"Whoa!..." said Phineas, tugging on the reigns. Gretchen slowed to a stop before the pile of tangled metal, and the prince slid out of the saddle.

"Atta girl, Gretchen!" he said, before he knocked on the door on her side. "Everything okay in there, Ferb?"

The door suddenly swung open to reveal Ferb sitting in a kind of cockpit in the horse's torso. He set down the controller and gave his brother a thumbs-up, before he climbed out.

"Great. Now, let's see…hmm." Phineas examined the wreck of the rocket. "It doesn't look too bad. I'd say it's fixable, wouldn't you?"

Ferb blinked.

"Yeah, that's just what I was thinking. But something's missing," said Phineas. "What happened to the nose cone?"

* * *

"Now, when investigating mysterious noises, it's very important to use caution," Isabella reminded the animals as they made their way through the shrubbery. "Anything could have made that noise. An animal falling out of a tree, an animal that bites with the slightest provocation. An avalanche of huge boulders cascading down a cliff! A—"

She pushed her way through some low hanging branches, and suddenly stopped. "A nose-cone from a rocket?" she said incredulously, looking at the object embedded in the earth in front of her.

"Hey!" piped an unfamiliar voice. "You found it!"

Startled, Isabella spun around. Standing at the edge of the clearing was a boy. He wore a purple travelling cloak and a warm, friendly smile; his hair was bright red and endearingly messy. Freckles dotted his nose beneath his large, dewy eyes.

In that moment, it was as though Isabella's heart had sprouted butterfly wings. The forest seemed to evaporate around them as she gazed at him, suddenly and acutely aware of her own breathing.

_Wow… _she thought, enchanted, and then mentally smacked herself. _C'mon, Isabella! Say something!"_

"Hi," Isabella said shyly. "Whatchya doin'?"

"We were looking for the missing part to our rocket," Phineas explained, coming forward. Ferb and Gretchen followed a few steps behind. "And now, thanks to you, we've found it!"

"Oh. Glad I could help," said Isabella breathlessly. "My name is—"

She hesitated briefly. _Oh, no. What am I doing? Buford and Baljeet told me not to talk to strangers! But I'm already talking to them; I can't just walk away. That would be rude! Um…_

"—Ella," she said finally, deciding to only give half her real name.

"Pleased to meet you, Ella," said Phineas, bowing. "I'm Phineas, and this is my brother, Ferb, and our horse, Gretchen." He indicated behind him. Ferb waved, and then pushed a button on the remote, so that Gretchen inclined her head with a snort.

"Nice to meet you, Phineas," Isabella blushed. "How did you guys get a rocket? I thought those hadn't been invented yet."

"We built it," Phineas explained. "Ferb and I were trying to see if the earth is round—but then our rocket was stolen by a purple tractor beam and the nose cone popped off. We knew it fell somewhere in the Fair Forest, but we weren't sure exactly where. We might have lost it forever if it hadn't been for you." Phineas smiled at her.

_Handsome _and _smart!... _Isabella thought dreamily—but suddenly Phineas frowned.

"How are we going to get it back to the ship, though?" he wondered aloud, looking back at Ferb. "It's too heavy for us to lift by ourselves."

"Oh! I know!" Isabella eagerly clapped her hands together, turning to the animals. "Alright, Forest Scouts, it's time to earn our Reunite-A-Nose-Cone-With-Its-Rocket patches! You know what to do!"

The animals saluted and promptly surrounded the nose cone. Working together, Phineas, Ferb, Isabella, and the scouts were able to lift the cone out of its crater and harness it behind Gretchen.

"There!" said Isabella, dusting off her hands. Phineas climbed up in the saddle, and then held out a hand to her.

"Wanna come along, Ella?"

"Do I!?" she exclaimed happily, and Phineas swung her up into the saddle behind him. That nose cone must have been really heavy, he thought, noticing that her rosy cheeks were even rosier than usual.

"Hang on," said Phineas, and Isabella put her arms around his waist as he grabbed the reigns. "Ready, Ferb? Alright; giddyup, Gretchen!"

* * *

Back at the cottage, baking was harder than Buford had anticipated.

"_One tisp baking soda_," he read, squinting at the recipe. "Tisp? _T-s-p…_what's _that? _Why don't these cookbooks speak English!?—_Ack!" _he exclaimed as he turned on the mixer, sending its contents splattering across the kitchen. Blinded by cake batter, he fumbled desperately for the switch. _"Turn it off, turn it off, turn it __off—!"_

Meanwhile, after a solid half-hour of trying, the exhausted Baljeet had finally succeeded in inflating a single balloon—but as he took it out of his mouth, it slipped from his fingers and went spiraling across the room in crazy loops.

"_Ohhh," _Baljeet groaned, and flopped backwards. "How are we possibly going to get everything done by lunchtime?" he panted.

Suddenly, Perry walked up to him, peeling the deflated balloon off of his head.

"Oh! Perry, you're back! Sorry about that," Baljeet apologized. Perry just glared. Without a word, the platypus set Isabella's present down on the table, before he whipped out his wand. He aimed it at the decorations; instantly the balloons began to inflate, and the streamers strung themselves throughout the room.

Walking into the kitchen next, Perry's eyes widened as he saw the broken eggs on the floor, the batter on the walls, the flour spilled across the countertops. _What the—!?_

Buford grinned sheepishly as Perry marched up, took the remaining batter, and waved his wand over it, transforming it into a multi-tiered, pink-frosted birthday cake.

"Heh, heh. Oh, right. Magic. Why didn't we think of that?" muttered Buford. Perry simply gave him a stern look, and handed him a broom.

* * *

"Wrench?" came Phineas' voice from under the rocket.

"Wrench," said Isabella, placing the tool in his groping hand.

"Ball joint compressor?"

"Here you go," said Isabella.

"Rubidium-infused satellite-receptor microchip?"

"Gotcha covered," she declared, passing it to him. "Watch out for the radiation."

"You got it!" declared the prince. Isabella looked up at the marvel of engineering towering above her.

"Wow, Phineas. You sure are good at building things!"

"Gee, thanks," said Phineas. "You sure know a lot about tools."

"Oh, well, you know," said Isabella modestly, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "I didn't earn that Mechanics patch for nothing, I guess."

From beneath the rocket, there came a squeak, a creak, and a clickety-clack, and then Phineas' delighted voice.

"Perfect!" He shimmied out from underneath, and Isabella helped him to his feet. "That should do it for the engine. Now the only problem is the fuel tank."

"Why? What happened?" asked Isabella.

"Well, when the rocket hit the ground, the fuel tank cracked," the prince explained. "Without fuel, we'll never get off the ground. If only we had some way to patch it up."

"Hmm…" Isabella thought. "Oh, wait! I have an idea!" She grabbed a couple tools and headed for a tree. She hammered a nail into the wood, yanked it out, and then inserted a piece of metal pipe into the hole she'd made; gradually, an amber liquid began to drip from the end of the tube. She placed a bucket underneath, and in no time, it was full of the sweet brownish substance. She stripped a few leaves off of a branch and carried them and the bucket back to the boys.

"Check this out!" She crawled through the side door and quickly located the fuel tank. One by one, she dipped the leaves in the bucket's sticky brown contents and plastered them over the crack.

"Cool!" Phineas exclaimed. "What is that stuff?"

"Maple syrup." Isabella quickly poured the rest of the sap into the tank and closed the lid. "The stickiest substance known to man, and its inexplicably high sugar content should be all the fuel you need to get you to outer space!"

"Awesome!" Phineas cheered as Isabella climbed out of the rocket. "Thanks for helping us repair the rocket, Ella."

"Oh, it was nothing," she said dreamily.

"Would you like to come with us into space?" asked Phineas.

"Really?" Isabella breathed. "You want me to come with you!?"

"Sure, why not?" said Phineas. "It's the least we can do. We couldn't have fixed the rocket without you."

"Aww, shucks," Isabella blushed, looking down at her dainty leather shoes.

"Oh, hang on," Phineas said suddenly. "You've got sap on your face."

"I do?" said Isabella, running a hand across her cheek.

"Here, I'll get it." The prince stepped forward and wiped the sap off of her other cheek with his travelling cloak. Isabella's heart was pounding so hard that she thought you probably didn't even need a stethoscope to hear it—never mind that stethoscopes hadn't been invented yet.

_He…touched me. He really touched me!_

"Ready to go?" Phineas asked her. Isabella wondered how she'd ever get breath for her answer, but just as she opened her mouth, they were suddenly interrupted by a loud growling noise.

"What was that?" Phineas looked around. The growling sounded again, even louder. Isabella stepped towards the prince, alarmed.

"What if it's some kind of animal? What if there's some fearsome beast that roams the woods? Or—"

"Or, it could just be Ferb's stomach," said Phineas, pointing to his brother. Sure enough, the growling, rumbling noise was emanating from Ferb's midsection. He sheepishly put a hand over his belly.

"Hmm," said Phineas. "No sense trying to fly a rocket on an empty stomach."

"If you guys are hungry, you're welcome to join our picnic," said Isabella, looking around to the Forest Scouts. "We have more than enough food to go around, right, guys?"

"Are you sure?" asked Phineas. "We'd hate to impose."

"Not at all," said Isabella. "I was wondering what we were going to do with all those sandwiches."

Phineas looked at his brother, who nodded vigorously. "Well, in that case, we'd love to!"

* * *

"Mmm!" said Phineas through a mouthful. "Peanut butter and ham on rye. My favorite!"

"More lemonade?" Isabella offered.

"Thanks!" Phineas held his glass steady so that Isabella could refill it. She set the pitcher down and sat back with a contented sigh.

"It's so nice to have someone else to share our picnics with," she said. "I've never had human friends before."

"Never?" said Phineas incredulously, while Ferb blinked in disbelief. Isabella shook her head.

"No. I've lived in the woods my whole life, and Buford and Baljeet have always forbidden me to talk to strangers."

"Then why are you talking to us?" Phineas asked.

"Well," said Isabella, "you're not really strangers. I mean, _technically_ you are, but you don't _feel _like strangers. I really feel like I know you. You're like—my friends."

"Well, we're honored to be your first friends, Ella," said Phineas.

"Really, the honor is mine," she sighed, before she suddenly noticed a cut on Phineas' hand.

"What happened to your hand?" she asked, concerned.

"Huh? Oh, that," said Phineas, looking down at his palm. "I guess I must've cut myself repairing the atomic stabilizers."

"It's bleeding!" Isabella exclaimed. "Here, let me help you." She held out her hand. "Scouts, the emergency first-aid-kit!"

"Don't worry," Phineas reassured her as she pulled out alcohol swabs and antiseptic ointment. "It doesn't hurt that much. Really."

"Still, I don't want it to get infected," Isabella said, gently cleaning the cut and applying a layer of ointment over the broken skin. She looked back in the kit, and smacked herself in the forehead. "Oh, no; we're out of band-aids! How could I have let this happen?" Before Phineas could say anything, she reached up and undid her pink hairbow. "I guess this will have to do."

As Isabella wrapped the ribbon around his injured hand, Phineas felt a sudden, curious warmth, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. The only thing he could compare it to was the feeling you get after a sip of hot chocolate, when the sweet, creamy liquid settles in your stomach and warms you from the inside out. Somehow, for some reason, feeling Isabella's fingers against his own made him unmistakably happy.

"That's much better," said Phineas. "Thanks, Ella."

"You're welcome," she said, smiling at him. "What are friends for?"

Phineas smiled back. For the first time, he noticed just how blue her eyes were. A recessive gene.

"But aren't you sad to lose your hairbow?" he asked.

"You're more important," said Isabella. "Besides, I'll probably get another one later today. It's my birthday."

"Really!?" exclaimed Phineas. "Well, why didn't you say something sooner? Happy Birthday!

"Thanks!" said Isabella. "I'm having a party later today. I'm just avoiding the house for awhile so that my guardians can set everything up." She looked at Phineas, eyes shining. "Would you guys like to come to my birthday party?"

"We'd be honored," Phineas proclaimed, and Ferb gave the thumbs-up.

"Great!" exclaimed Isabella. "I can't wait for them to meet you."

"What time should we come by?"

"How about two o'clock?" Isabella suggested.

"That sounds perfect," said Phineas. "Ferb, add that to the calendar!" Ferb nodded and whipped out a scroll and a quill. "Gosh, I almost forgot," Phineas added. "What would you like for a birthday present? I hope we have time to get you something you like."

"Oh, that's okay," said Isabella. "Just you being there is the best present of all."

Phineas smiled. It may have been the most utterly cliché of sentiments, yet coming from her, it radiated sincerity.

"Or maybe we'll just take you for an extra-long flight among the stars," he said. Isabella's cheeks were aching from smiling so much. Behind them, Ferb nudged Gretchen conspiratorially, pointing to the pair with a wink. Suddenly, Isabella looked at her sundial keychain and gasped.

"Yikes! I've gotta go! I promised I'd be back in time for lunch!" She leapt to her feet.

"Okay," said Phineas. He and Ferb helped her pack away the picnic stuff. "I guess we'll see you at the party this afternoon, then."

"See you then!" said Isabella. As she scurried into the woods with her backpack, she turned to wave. "Bye, Phineas!"

"Bye, Ella!" he called. "Can't wait!" And then she was gone. Phineas stood up, grinning. "Ferb, I know what else we're gonna do today."


	4. Well, This Sure Complicates Things

Her heart hopping like one of her bunny friends, Isabella skipped home.

"I'm back!" she called, stepping into the darkened cottage. "Is it time for lunch?"

Suddenly, the lights went on with a burst of noisemakers and confetti.

"SURPRISE!" Buford, Baljeet, and Perry were all in party hats, standing in front of an enormous birthday cake. The entire room was festooned with balloons and streamers, and a big banner read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ISABELLA!"

"Oh, wow!" Isabella gasped with delight. "What a surprise!" _Not really, but hey. It's the thought that counts. _She ran up and engulfed the three of them in a big group hug. "Thanks, guys!"

"Do you like it?" asked Baljeet.

"It's perfect!" Isabella exclaimed, twirling. "This whole _day_ is totally perfect!" She sighed. _**He's**__ totally perfect._

"See, I did the decorations," said Baljeet, pointing, "and Buford—"

"Yeah, yeah," said Buford, shoving him aside. "And I made the cake! C'mon, what are we waiting for? Let's dig in!—"

All of a sudden, Perry's watch started beeping. That could mean only one thing. A message from the King and Queen.

Hurriedly, the platypus pushed Isabella's present across the table towards her.

"—Oh. Well, I guess you could open your present first, if you wanted to," said Buford.

"Okay!" Isabella began to unwrap the package. "This is such pretty paper!"

"Perry was in charge of getting the gift," said Baljeet.

"Wow, thank you, Per—!" Isabella suddenly looked up. "Hey, where's Perry?"

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Mount Doof, Malefischmirtz had come to a life-changing realization: he really needed to clean out his closet more often. After seemingly endless hours of dust and sneezing and hunting through countless boxes of relics that brought up unpleasant, embittering memories of his childhood, he finally found what he was looking for.

"Ah-HA!" Malefischmirtz exclaimed, and then immediately sneezed, sending up a cloud of dust from the surface of the ancient golden mirror.

"Ah-CHOO!" He snuffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his robes, before he stumbled out of the closet. "Urgh. You know, given a choice between repeating that experience and battling a giant, evil dragon, I think I'd take the dra—" He paused. "Well, actually, no; I think I'd still take the closet, but by a very slim margin!" he said. "At least I found what I was looking for. My old Spy-inator, from Magic Mirror Industries, Inc."

The sorcerer moved to hang it on the wall. "Now, let's see if the enchantment still works…"

At first, the screen simply fizzled and sputtered with static, but after a few good whacks from both Malefischmirtz's staff and his fist, the picture finally cleared up. Sure enough, there was Perry the Fairy-pus, slipping out the back door to the woodcutter's cottage.

"What?" The sorcerer was utterly confused. "What is Perry the Fairy-pus doing _there, _of all places? I always thought that fairies lived in little houses made from hollowed-out toadstools—though I suppose it would be difficult for Perry the Fairy-pus to fit inside of a mushroom. Still, cottages just aren't _magicky_ enough."

As he watched, Perry pressed a button on his watch, from which arose a magical bubble with an image of King Monogram.

"Hmm; what's _this?_..." the sorcerer leaned in curiously. He whacked the mirror again. "Come on; zoom in; zoom in! Sheesh; I hope these things have a warranty."

"Fairy Perry," said King Monogram. "As I'm sure you are aware, today is Isabella's tenth birthday—"

"Isabella?" Malefischmirtz scratched his head. "Why does that name sound so familiar?..."

"—This means that the ten years we allotted for Malefischmirtz to forget about the curse are up, and it's time for the princess to return to the castle to meet her betrothed," said the king. "There's a feast tonight, and the royal family of Flynn-Fletcher will be there. I trust I can rely on you to bring Isabella back in time?" Perry saluted.

"Good." The monarch suddenly clapped his hands in joy. "We can't wait to see Isabella again! And listen, Fairy Perry—" he said, becoming serious, "—this may sound somewhat sentimental, but I just wanted to thank you and the other fairies for all you've done to keep the princess safe. I knew we could count on you."

Another salute to the king, and the bubble disappeared. Perry turned to head back inside.

"The Princess Isabella!?" exclaimed Malefischmirtz. "Wow, he's right; I totally forgot about the curse! Was that really ten years ago?" he wondered, and shrugged. "No matter. I remember now!"

The sorcerer watched in his mirror as Perry re-entered the house, where Isabella was just unwrapping a new pink hair bow.

"So _that's _who the mystery present was for!" the sorcerer exclaimed. He chuckled, his wicked gaze fixed on Isabella. "Ha, ha! You thought you could outsmart me, did you, Perry the Fairy-pus!? You thought you could cheat my curse by taking advantage of my bad memory and hiding the princess away in the woodcutter's cottage?—though, I have to admit, that _was _a pretty brilliant plan," he conceded. "Still, you thought that you could keep me from finding out who the recipient of that package was? Well, now I know!" he laughed. "It was for your little protégé, the Princess Isabella! And you're bringing her back to the castle tonight."

Malefischmirtz rubbed his hands together, an evil smile playing on his lips.

"So sorry, Princess, but I don't think you'll make it to the feast. I think you have a previous engagement: a date with your pillow!..." He threw back his head, intending to give the evil laugh to end all evil laughs, but instead, it turned into a fit of coughing. "Aaaargh! Stupid dust!"

* * *

"Oh, there you are, Perry," said Isabella, as the platypus returned to the table. "Thank you so much for the new hair bow! I love it!"

"Speaking of which, where did your other one go?" asked Baljeet.

"Eh, who cares?" said Buford, and he spread his arms wide. "Now, who's ready for some CAKE!?—"

"No, wait!—" said Isabella suddenly, holding up her arms. "Stop! We can't eat it yet!"

Buford screeched to a halt. "What? Why not?"

"We have to wait for my friends!"

"Animals don't eat cake," said Buford.

"No, not the Forest Scouts," said Isabella. "I mean my new friends."

"What!?" exclaimed Buford. "You don't mean to tell me you've been talkin' to strangers!?"

"Well, _technically_ they were strangers, but don't worry," said Isabella placatingly. "I didn't use my real name, and besides, he's so smart and sweet and wonderful and handsome that it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Handsome?" said Baljeet.

"Oh, _yes,_" said Isabella dreamily, twirling again. "He's handsome, and _smart,_ and he builds giant robot horses, and invents rockets, and he said that he'd take me to the stars, and he loves peanut butter and ham just like I do, and he wiped sap off my face, and I bandaged his hand with my hair ribbon, and he's coming to the party later this afternoon, so we _have _to wait for him, see!?"

She gazed at them, eager and imploring. The fairies just looked at her. Baljeet was nervously wringing his hands. Buford scratched his head. Perry, meanwhile, sat stock-still, only one thought running through his mind:

_Oh, __**crud. **__She's in love._

Well. This was going to significantly complicate things.

* * *

"Well, THERE you guys are!" exclaimed Candace as Phineas dismounted. Ferb climbed out of the hatch and immediately headed in the direction of the stables.

"Oh, hi, Candace!" said Phineas, pausing to wave at his sister. "What's up?"

"I've been looking all over the place for you two." She winced as there came a screech from the ball joint at Gretchen's knee.

"Hang in there, girl," said Phineas, patting the metal of Gretchen's side. "It's okay."

"Where've you been?" Candace demanded.

"We were looking for our missing rocket," said Phineas reasonably. "Sorry if we're being too noisy, but don't worry. Gretchen's leg just needed some oil, but as soon as she's all better, we're heading back out."

"And where are you going, exactly?" demanded Candace.

"Ella's birthday party," explained Phineas, as Ferb returned with the oil can. "That's great, Ferb. Thanks."

"Ella? Who's Ella?" asked Candace, as Ferb knelt to administer the fluid to their horse's squeaking joints.

"Our new friend," said Phineas, smiling. "We met her in the woods today. She helped us repair our rocket, and then she invited us to her birthday party later this afternoon!"

"Oh, no, you don't," said Candace. "You're not going to any party. You're staying right here. Tonight's the feast at Danland Castle, where you're meeting your betrothed."

"My betrothed?" Phineas asked.

"Yeah, your fiancée. Y'know, the girl you're supposed marry one day, when you're old enough? The _Princess Isabella_, remember?"

"Oh, right. Gosh, I forgot I was already engaged," said Phineas. "But we promised Ella we'd be there!"

"Sorry, pal," said Candace firmly, holding up a hand. "I have orders not to let you out of my sight. Besides, she's just a peasant girl."

"She's_ not_ just a peasant girl!" Phineas said indignantly, straightening up. "She's one of the kindest and smartest people I've ever met. She even bandaged up my hand after I cut it!"

"Oh, _I _see what's going on here," said Candace with a knowing smile. She leaned in closer, pointing at her brother. "You _like _her, don't you?"

"What? No, not like that!" said Phineas, but then he stopped, confused. "Well…"

For some reason, it felt wrong to deny it. Yet he still wasn't sure. He remembered Ella's blue eyes; he thought back to his unexplained happiness when she held his hand—but was that what it meant to like someone? Was that what you were supposed to feel? He didn't know. He wasn't sure. He had the feeling that even science wouldn't be able to help him here.

"Ah-HA!" exclaimed Candace, pointing her finger in his face. "I can smell a romance at a mile. You _do _like her! Too bad you're already engaged."

"Already engaged," Phineas repeated. For some reason, the words were heavier in his mouth than before. "I don't know, Candace. But I _do_ know that she's our friend, and we _promised _we'd be there. Ferb and I never break our promises, and we refuse to make an exception."

"Yeah, well, sorry," said Candace. "Mom and Dad told me to watch you. If you wanna go gallivanting off into the forest, you're gonna have to get past me."

"Or, you could just come to the party with us," said Phineas. "I'm sure Ella wouldn't mind, and we can go straight from there to Danland Castle afterward. We should be able to get there in plenty of time for the feast."

"No!" said Candace. "We're not going to any party! We're going to Danland, attending the feast, and you're gonna meet the princess, like you're supposed to. End of story." She crossed her arms and glared at them. A few seconds passed in silence while they stared at one another. Phineas looked down at the pink ribbon still wrapped around his injured hand, before his brow furrowed in sudden determination. He turned to his brother.

"Ferb, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked. In response, he received a resolute nod.

"Hey, wait!" protested Candace, as the two of them suddenly turned back to Gretchen. "Where are you two going!?"

"Sorry, Candace, but a promise is a promise," said Phineas as he leapt into the saddle.

"You'll never be able to get out; the drawbridge is up!" yelled Candace.

"Ferb, initiate escape feature number four," said Phineas. Inside the cockpit, Ferb pressed a button, and two large wings suddenly unfolded from panels hidden on the horse's sides.

"Giddyup, girl!" called Phineas, and Gretchen galloped across the courtyard, beating her wings as she picked up speed. Candace ran after them, shouting, but she was no match for the horse, who launched herself into the sky. As Candace watched them soaring up and over the castle wall, she suddenly slipped, falling face-first into the mud of the courtyard in her party dress.

"ACK! Oh, no; oh no; ew, ew, EWW!—" Candace shrieked, shaking her fist at the sky. "PHINEAS AND FERB, YOU GUYS ARE SO BUSTEEEEEEED!..." she bellowed.


	5. A Date With Your Pillow

As Princes Phineas and Ferb soared away from Flynn Castle on their robotic-horse-turned-pegasus, meanwhile, another party was just arriving at Danland Castle by an equally unconventional method of transportation. In a shower of sparkles, the three fairies and Isabella suddenly materialized in the center of a grand, violently pink bedroom.

"Wow," said Baljeet, wide-eyed. "I did not know it was even possible to have so many different shades of one color!"

"Look at this!" said Buford. "They must've designed this room specifically for you, Isabella."

"Yeah, sure; it's very nice," said Isabella vaguely, not paying attention. She was still reeling from the shock of having seen her guardians reattach their disused fairy wings after ten years.

"Why did we have to bring Isabella up here, again?" asked Baljeet. "If we are bringing her back to the king, why not just go in the front door?"

"'Cause she's gotta get dressed, dummy," said Buford, "It's not just the king. She's meeting her betrothed tonight, remember?"

"Oh. Right," said Baljeet sheepishly. Isabella swallowed. Buford's last sentence felt like a punch in the gut.

Perry suddenly chattered, tapping on his wrist.

"Perry's right. We'd better hurry up," said Buford. "Alright, Isabella, what'cha wanna wear?"

"Oh…anything." Isabella sighed, shrugging. "It doesn't matter."

"But there is a whole wardrobe full of dresses! I thought girls liked stuff like that," said Baljeet, puzzled.

"It's not that," said Isabella sadly. "I'm just—"

"Oooh, look! Green velvet!" exclaimed Buford, and just like that, the fashion show was on. If this were an actual episode, there would have been a song interlude while Isabella tried on dress after dress in an impromptu fashion show. Buford and Baljeet and Perry inspected and then shook their heads at each and every one. Eventually, the closet was empty, and Isabella still hadn't found something to wear.

"Whadda we do now?" asked Buford, looking at the pile of rejected gowns. Perry's brow furrowed thoughtfully, before he had a sudden idea. He pushed over a chair for some extra height and then, standing on top of it, he waved his wand over Isabella's head. As a shower of glitter cascaded down over her, the frumpy yellow dress that the princess was wearing suddenly began to change. The itchy wool skirt transformed into softest pink silk; the overlong sleeves shrank into short, tasteful puffed ones; the gaudy floral pattern was replaced by a scattering of golden sparkles. Buford and Baljeet looked on in awe as, with a little help of a little Perry Panache, Isabella transformed into a princess right before their eyes.

"Whoa," said Buford once again.

"Who knew platypuses had such extraordinary fashion sense!?" exclaimed Baljeet, bursting into applause, but Buford smacked him.

"Hold it, nerd." He ran a hand thoughtfully over his chin. "Looks good, Perry, but…eh, I dunno." He shrugged. "I feel like there's still something missin'."

Perry thought for a second, and then lit up. He reached up and tapped Isabella's hairbow with his wand, transforming into a beautiful golden tiara. Isabella gasped, putting her hands to her head.

"Ohhh," breathed Baljeet. Buford nodded approvingly.

"Perfect! _Now _she's really a princess."

Isabella walked over and looked at herself in the mirror over the vanity table. Any other time, she would have been thrilled to wear such a beautiful dress, but now…everything just felt so wrong.

"What do you think, Isabella?" asked Baljeet.

_Perhaps I'm overreacting,_ thought Isabella. After all, just because your whole world was suddenly turned upside down, that wasn't worth freaking out about. Just because the three social service workers that raised you actually turned out to be fairies who had lied to you about your identity as a simple peasant girl, when in fact you were the long-lost princess of the entire kingdom of Danland—that was no reason to feel upset. But to miss her birthday party, and to miss Phineas—

Her eyes filled with tears. Just when she'd finally met someone, a new friend—and maybe they could have been more than friends, but she'd never know, because she'd had to leave him behind! He would probably arrive at the cottage any minute to find it dark and empty, and he'd wonder where she was, but she'd never be able to tell him her real name or tell him how she felt because she would have to marry the prince of Danland instead!—

Isabella collapsed onto the cushioned stool before the vanity and began to cry. Buford rounded on Baljeet.

"_Now _look what you've done!" he said angrily.

"Why? What did I do!?" protested Baljeet.

"I dunno, but you must've done something!"

"Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe it is _you _who made her cry?" said Baljeet, putting his hands on his hips.

"Are you accusing me?" said Buford threateningly.

"_You_ are the one who is being so insensitive by acting like Isabella should be excited about being a princess!" retorted Baljeet. "Can't you see she is sad about missing her party!?"

However, Buford's reply was cut short by Perry's angry growl. With surprising strength, the platypus began to shove them both towards the door. Isabella clearly needed a few moments alone, and the other fairies' bickering was anything but comforting.

"Ow!" said Baljeet as Buford stepped on his toe.

"Hey, watch it, buddy!" said Buford to Perry. The fairy-pus glared at him, pointing at Isabella, and then at the door. The bully held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Alright, alright. We get the point! We're leaving."

* * *

Isabella didn't remember hearing the door shut. One minute, her sobs were accompanied by arguing, the next, they were the only sound echoing in the empty chamber. Isabella thought of Phineas' messy red hair, and his eyes, and his smile as he wiped the sap from her cheek, and his promised adventure among the stars.

_What am I __**doing!? **_she suddenly thought._ I'm the leader of the Forest Scouts! I can't just be sitting here weeping like any ordinary damsel in distress!_

Isabella hurriedly sat up, scrubbing the tears from her face. "Ugh! I can't believe myself. C'mon, Isabella! Pull it together!" she said aloud. "Even if I **am **a princess, I'm still me. And if I just let this twist of fate dictate my life, then I'm not worthy to go to the stars. I'm not worthy of Phineas!"

She made herself take several deep breaths. "Those fairies made me gutsy. Well, I'll show them guts. I don't care what anyone says: I am going back to that cottage, and I am going to find Phineas, no matter what it takes!" Isabella looked around. "Now, how to get out of here?..."

She hurried first to the window, but it was at least a four-story drop to the ground, and even if they were knotted together, her Carnation-pink bedsheets couldn't possibly cover more than half that distance. Isabella was sure that, if Phineas were here, he could've whipped up some sort of hang glider using materials from the room, but even if she could have built something like that, it would take her far too long. On the other side of the door, she could hear Buford, Baljeet, and Perry talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. "The fairies are right outside, so the door isn't an option. But," she said, "thanks to my magically enhanced intelligence, I know that almost all castles have secret passages of some sort!"

Isabella began to poke around. She checked under the magenta rug, but there was no trapdoor. She checked the bookcases, but there were no secret books that you pushed in to reveal hidden chambers beyond.

Just as Isabella was thinking that her only option was to pretend to go along with the fairies and then make a break for it at the last second, her eyes landed on the tall, ornate fireplace, which sat unused in springtime. She gasped.

"Of course! The fireplace!" She raced to it. "Maybe there's a secret door or something, triggered by a loose brick, or a certain tile that you have to step on…"

But she couldn't find one. No matter how she inspected, prodded, and poked, the fireplace appeared perfectly ordinary.

"Come on, there has to be something!" she said, frantically going over the bricks once again, and then stopped as a terrible thought crossed her mind. "Oh, no. What if you need magic to open it?—" She shook her head, dismissing the notion. "No. There has to be another way. I'll find it. I have to get out of here! I have to get to Phineas! Oh, please; _please_ open!—"

All of a sudden, with a _click _and a scraping of stone, the back wall of the fireplace slid open. Behind it, there was a stone archway, and through the archway, she could see the beginnings of a stone staircase that spiraled upwards.

"Oh!" Isabella exclaimed. "What do you know!? I guess all you needed was the magic word!"

* * *

After Perry had unceremoniously shunted them out the door, once in the corridor, Buford and Baljeet were clearly ready to pick up where they had left off with their fight. However, Perry quickly stepped between them and focused their attention back on Isabella. The issue of her sadness clearly wasn't just missing a party.

"It is that boy that she met," said Baljeet, biting his lip. "What did she say his name was?"

"She didn't say," said Buford, arms crossed over his broad chest. "I don't get it. What's she so upset about? She can see him anytime."

"That is not the point," said Baljeet impatiently. "The point is what she _feels_ about him."

Buford was looking utterly confused. "Huh?"

"Don't you see? She _likes _him," said Baljeet. "Like, _like-likes _him."

"What?"

"She is in love!" said Baljeet exasperatedly. "But, as the princess, she is already betrothed to someone else. She cannot marry the boy from the woods, because she is supposed to marry the _prince_; see!?"

"Ohhhh," said Buford, the light finally dawning, and his face fell. "Oh, wow. That's…that's not good. That's really not good. That's actually kindasad."

"Do you have tears in your eyes?" asked Baljeet.

"N-no," said Buford hastily. He furiously scrubbed his eye with the back of his enormous fist. "This castle is dusty, that's all. Must've gotten some dust in there. Anyway, that's not important. The important thing is, what're we gonna do about Isabella? She can't marry the prince if she's in love with the woods boy."

"But what can we do about it?" asked Baljeet. "It is traditional for princesses to marry princes."

"Tradition-shmadition!" proclaimed Buford. "If it makes her happy, I don't see a problem with breakin' off the engagement."

"But her father might," Baljeet pointed out. "What about King Monogram? What would he think?"

"Oh," said Buford, pausing. "I guess _he_ might not like it. But he loves Isabella. And so does Queen Carl. They loved her enough to let us take her to keep her safe. For all we know, maybe they'd be willing to break tradition if it'll make their daughter happy."

"Maybe," said Baljeet. "I suppose we could talk to them."

"We've got to! For Isabella's sake," said Buford firmly. "We've gotta at least try. Right, Perry?"

Perry, who had been pacing, suddenly stopped; his head whipped around towards the door.

"What is it, Perry?" asked Baljeet, but Perry had run to the door and pressed his ear to the wood. For a second, he just listened, but then he jerked away, his expression panicked.

"What's wrong!?" asked Buford, alarmed. Perry gestured frantically to the room; the three fairies sprinted inside just in time to see Isabella disappear through the open fireplace.

_NO! _Perry wanted to scream, but all that came out was a strangled growl.

"NO! Isabella!" Buford and Baljeet yelled, but before they could make a move, the wall slid closed behind her.

* * *

Isabella heard the fairies' yells behind her, but they only served to propel her faster through the archway and up the first few stairs. Her heart was pounding with fear and adrenaline. The stairwell was incredibly dark; as she fumbled for the steps with her feet, she wished for a handrail or something to hold onto, before she remembered that those hadn't been invented yet. Still, she thought that just having one hand against the wall might help—but then, as her hand slid across the rough stone surface, it came in contact with something.

"What's this?" she thought, puzzled. "It feels like…a light switch? But we're in the middle ages!"

She flicked it upward, and suddenly, torches in brackets along the wall burst into life. Isabella shook her head.

"Someone please tell me how that makes sense."

Nonetheless, she was grateful with the light. Now that she could see where she was going, she gathered up her skirt and continued up the steps, climbing farther and faster than she ever had before. She was fueled not just by the thought of pursuit, but by her determination to escape, and most importantly, by thoughts of Phineas.

Suddenly, she froze, her foot resting on the next step. Over the sounds of her own heavy breathing, she heard another noise. It was faint, distant, but it sounded like—a voice.

She hadn't thought that there would be anyone else in these secret passageways. What if it was a guard? Isabella concentrated hard, trying unsuccessfully to make out the words. The voice didn't sound smart and official. Instead, it was plaintive, pitiful. If it wasn't one of the castle guards, then who was it?

Her curiosity won out, and she kept climbing.

* * *

"AAAARGH!"

"Buford, pounding on the wall is not going to help! You will never be able to break it down," said Baljeet.

"Well, whadda you suggest, then, nerd!?" demanded Buford.

"Let us use our _brains. _There has to be something that triggers the door. Perhaps a loose brick that you push in, or a candleholder that is actually a lever!—"

Buford snorted. "Yeah, right!" he said sarcastically. "We might as well just ask it nicely!"

Perry's eyes suddenly widened. He turned to Buford and chattered urgently.

"Say what?" asked Buford.

"I think he actually wants you to ask the wall to open," said Baljeet.

"Oh, you've _gotta_ be kidding me!" said Buford. Perry growled.

"Buford, please!" said Baljeet. "We don't have time for this!"

"Alright, alright!" said Buford. "Sheesh, I can't believe I'm doing this." He stepped up to the wall and cleared his throat. A second passed. Then two.

"What are you _waiting _for!?" asked Baljeet. Buford looked at him.

"I, uh—" Buford scratched his head. "Well, I'm—I'm not used to askin' nicely for stuff."

"You mean you don't know_ how?" _cried Baljeet. "Oh, come _on!_ It is not that hard; all you have to do is say 'Please, Mr. Fireplace, would you kindly open for—?'"

He was interrupted by a loud _click_; the wall of the fireplace suddenly slid to the side.

"—us. Holy cow!" he exclaimed.

"I can't believe that actually worked!" said Buford. Perry chattered urgently, gesturing for the others to follow him. "Perry's right. No time for chitchat! We've gotta save Isabella!"

* * *

The staircase spiraled higher and higher, making Isabella dizzy, taking her further and further towards the top of what she knew was a tower. The voice was still calling to her; as she continued on, the words became more and more distinct.

"Hello?...Hello?..." it called. "Is anyone there? I could use a little help up here! Hello!?—"

They needed help! Although compassion wasn't one of the gifts the fairies had given her, Isabella still had as much of it as she had intelligence or guts, and she hurried on. At last, she reached the top of the staircase, where a heavy wooden door stood ajar. She pushed it open.

"Oh!" said Isabella. In the center of the room, there stood a large contraption dominated by a great wooden wheel. It looked like a giant spider had spun a web all over it, entangling both the strange machine and the black-robed figure beside it in a mess of woolen thread.

"Oh, thank goodness!" exclaimed the figure. "I thought I'd be trapped here forev—"

Suddenly he gasped. "—Princess Isabella!"

"How do you know my name?" asked Isabella.

"Erm—" The sorcerer floundered for only a second before he pointed to Isabella's head. "—well, you _are _wearing a tiara."

"Oh…right," Isabella remembered, reaching up and feeling the cool metal beneath her fingers.

"Well, what do you know?" crowed Malefishmirtz. "I _was_ going to lure you up here using an evil ball of green light, but now you just happen to wander across my path after I'm incapacitated," he laughed. "I guess today must be my lucky day!"

"Huh?" Isabella was utterly confused.

"Never mind," said the sorcerer quickly. "Just talking to myself! Anyway, as you can see, princess, I'm a little _tied up _at the moment. Do you think you could get me out of here?"

"Sure," said Isabella, hurrying over. "Let's see—this end goes through here; that one goes around and over and back out…"

She had always been a natural at untangling knots (hey, she hadn't earned those eight Knot-Tying patches for nothing!), and in no time at all, the thread fell away.

"Ahhh! Freedom!" The sorcerer cheered.

"Are you okay?" asked Isabella.

"Oh, yes; yes, I'm fine, except for the humiliation burning in my soul like a wildfire," Malefishmirtz muttered as he grabbed his staff. He turned to the princess. "Come to think of it, if I didn't lure you up here, then what _are_ you doing in the tower?"

"I was looking for a way out," said Isabella, as she began to gather up the thread and wind it back onto the spool. "I've got to get back to the cottage. Phineas is expecting me!"

"Phineas?" said Malefishmirtz. He rubbed his chin. "Hmm…for some reason, that name also sounds really familiar. Did the fairies hide him, too?"

"I met him in the woods today," Isabella explained. "I invited him to my birthday party, back before I found out I was a princess. If he gets to the cottage and I'm not there, he'll that the party was cancelled, and that I deserted him!" She looked up at the sorcerer. "He might think that I don't care about him. I could never let him think that!"

"Ohhh; so you _like _him?" Malefishmirtz asked, winking at her.

"Um, well…" Isabella blushed and turned away. "What about you? What are _you _doing up here?"

"Me?" said the sorcerer, pointing to himself. Isabella nodded. "I was just setting up my new spinning wheel."

"Oh, is _that_ what this is?" said Isabella, walking up to the great wheel. "What does it do?"

"It turns wool into thread—I think," said Malefischmirtz. A sly smile suddenly curved his lips. "Why don't you put your hand out and touch it?"

"Wow, that's really smooth!" said Isabella, running her hand along the polished wood.

"No, no, I mean _this_ part, here," said Malefischmirtz, gesturing to the shiny silver spindle. The point glistened in the light from the electrical torches. "Go on; just put your finger right there—"

"Why would I do that?" asked Isabella. "It looks really sharp."

"…Um, no reason." The sorcerer shrugged. "Just because. I dare you!"

"Um...I don't think so." Isabella shook her head. "I should probably go now. I don't want to be late to meet Phineas."

"Darn!" said Malefishmirtz, crossing his arms in a huff. "So close!..."

"Where does this go?" asked Isabella, holding up the spool.

"Oh, it goes right on top of the spindle; you just slide it on," said Malefishmirtz. He sighed, muttering under his breath. "I could've done better with something else. Like a needle. Or even a rose; come to think of it, their thorns are pretty sharp! Seriously, why is it always a _spinning wheel? _I mean, if you're looking for something the princess can prick her finger on, there's got to be something better than—"

"_Ow!"_ Isabella let out a sudden cry of pain, jerking her hand away. A tiny drop of blood was welling on the tip of her right index finger. "I _told _you it was sharp!"

"You did it? You pricked your finger!?-" Malefischmirtz asked. He began to laugh. "Ha ha! Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah, baby! Woo-hoo!"

"Hey!" said Isabella indignantly. "It's not funny! You should really file that down before someone else gets hurt. Now, would you happen to have a Band-Aid?"

"Oh, I don't think you'll need one," the sorcerer grinned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Isabella.

"You'll see…" said Malefischmirtz, rubbing his hands in anticipation. A moment passed in silence. Then two. Then three. "Any second now…!"

Isabella just glared at him. After another lengthy pause, the sorcerer scratched his head. "Well, that's weird. Curses don't expire with age, do they?"

Suddenly, the tower door crashed open to reveal Buford, Baljeet, and Perry, huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf from sprinting up the steps, their eyes bugging in panic.

"ISABELLA!" yelled Buford.

"_Ngngngngngng!" _yelled Perry.

"_Whatever you do, do not touch the spindle!"_ shrieked Baljeet, pointing.

"She already did!" smirked the sorcerer.

"Wait, you mean _that's_ what a spindle looks like?" said Buford. "I thought it was one of those little electronic tablet thingys—y'know, the one that you can read books off of?"

"Buford, that is a _Kindle!"_ said Baljeet, slapping a hand to his forehead. "How could she possibly prick her finger on one of those!? They are not sharp. They haven't even been invented yet!"

"Yeah, well, neither have electrical torches," said Buford.

"Um, hello!?" protested Malefischmirtz. "Evil scheme succeeding over here!?—The point is, the princess has pricked her finger!"

"Yeah, but don't worry, guys," said Isabella brightly. "I'm—"

She paused midsentence as a great yawn suddenly escaped her. "I'm—fine…"

Without warning, her eyelids drooped. Before the fairies could react, Isabella crumpled gracefully to the floor.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!..."

"YES!" Malefischmirtz punched the air and threw back his head, his evil laugh ringing through the tower. "Too bad, Perry the Fairy-pus! Looks like all your careful planning and hiding was for nothing. You should have realized you can't fight a _curse! _You lose; _I win! _Ha, ha! Sweet dreams, Princess!"

With his evil speech complete, the sorcerer's moment of triumph would have been perfect if only he had managed to successfully disappear in a puff of purple smoke. As it was, he only succeeded in setting his robe on fire.


End file.
